


The Bludgeonings of Chance

by consulting_vulcan_jedi_detective



Series: Hell Has A New King [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Human, Angel!Alfred, Devil!Ivan, Ficlet, Heaven and Hell, Ivan has a secret, Light Smut, M/M, POV Alfred, POV Ivan, minimal plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9259487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consulting_vulcan_jedi_detective/pseuds/consulting_vulcan_jedi_detective
Summary: Alfred is looking for a soul to save, and Ivan doesn't mind taking advantage of the situation. Neither of them is opposed to having some fun along the way.Stand-alone, or set after "Hell Has A New King".





	

“Ivan,” he says, smiling as he holds out his hand. His eyes are clear, angel-clear, and behind them is a soul so terribly blackened and brilliant at the same time.

Alfred reaches out his own hand, and as soon as he makes contact, he thinks that maybe this man is to be his next challenge, his next victory. Ivan has a sorcerer’s skin, the kind so steeped in magic that Alfred can touch it without the usual prickly buzz.

The human has the kind of face Alfred could fall in love with, and he thinks that if he spends some time with this man, he can pull him back from the abyss. He’ll be a genuine venture, not just a fling, like Kiku had complained about the last few. To be fair, one had been his coworker, and two of them had been actual demons.

“I’m Alfred, Alfred Jones,” he says, with a dazzling smile, because this is just the right sort of thing to get him back into the higher-ups’ good books. Ivan is human, and human is safe.

~

Alfred is possibly the prettiest angel Ivan’s met. True, he doesn’t meet many in his line of work, but this one he wants to wrap himself around and _taste_. But he holds himself in check, now, and Ivan Braginsky, human, says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” and holds the angel’s hand for just a moment too long.

That night, he goes to Hell’s Hall of Records and finds the angel currently calling himself Alfred. He’s not one of the original models, but neither is he obscenely young; he is, of course, older than Ivan himself. He is young enough that he can’t have participated in the Rebellion War, but he will remember the era in which Heaven and Hell had warred bitterly, for eons. He will remember Lucifer, the first King of Hell. He will not be naïve.

Ivan smiles to himself and pushes the record away, and then he goes to attend to business.

He is one of few humans who walk freely and willingly here. He is special, and the crowds part for him as he searches for Arthur, the first demon he’d ever met. He wants to have some questions about angels answered.

~

It doesn’t take much for Alfred to get Ivan to come home with him, just a few suggestive grins, a little bit of physical contact, and an appreciative look at his ass. It might be a bit forward for the second day working with a guy, and he knows that lechery is supposed to be a deadly sin, but he’s never been quite conventional with his techniques. His superiors don’t _really_ mind.

When he asks Ivan if he’s got any plans for the night, the human says no, and from there all he has to say is, “How about my place, then?”

An hour later, Alfred serves freshly cooked spaghetti to his newest guest in his apartment. He watches Ivan lick red sauce from his lips, and he decides that the man is gorgeous.

When Ivan catches him staring, he flashes the most wicked grin, and Alfred _wants_ him.

~

Ivan pulls Alfred onto the couch hungrily, unbuttoning the angel’s shirt. Alfred is so accommodating, doing the same for Ivan’s button-up.

Ivan manages to divest Alfred of his shirt before temptation makes him yank him close, catching those pink lips in his own in a deep, hard kiss. Then he breaks away so that he can nibble up and down the column of Alfred’s throat and make him moan.

Alfred’s hands are tangled in Ivan’s hair. His back is arching, and Ivan can tell those white-feathered wings are just aching to stretch.

He wants to see them. He slides his hands around Alfred’s back, briefly strokes that strong, supple spine, and then feels for the flesh where the wings should root. He makes stroking, circling motions with his thumbs, hard enough to bruise human skin, hard enough to make the angel cry out in pleasure.

Then he rests his head beside Alfred’s so he can see that pale, bare back. “Show me,” he whispers.

~

Humans aren’t supposed to recognize angels. They’re certainly not supposed to ask to see their wings, but Ivan’s hands are rubbing confidently across the bases of Alfred’s and he thinks, well, if he already knows, it can’t hurt.

They want to spread, and he lets them materialize fully.

“Beautiful,” Ivan murmurs, no surprise in his voice. “Hello, angel.”

Alfred can feel his hands running along his feathers, and he twists his head to see the man. “You’re a sorcerer,” he starts.

“I’m more,” Ivan promises, not taking his eyes off of the feathers between his fingers.

Alfred rotates a little, stretching more, and then he puts a hand to Ivan’s face, turning him toward him. “What do you want for your immortal soul, though?” he asks, letting Heaven shine through his eyes.

Ivan smiles. “Nothing. I am happy as I am,” he says, and he sounds like he really means it.

“Will you be happy with where you go in the end?” Alfred breathes. It’s times like this that he wishes he had more divinity in him. For some humans, a flash of the wings is enough to cause them to wash their own souls bright and clean.

“Where’s that?” Ivan says, laughing.

The sorcerer pulls Alfred down on top of him, and somehow he’s halfway out of his pants before he manages to answer. “Hell, the way you’re going. Absolutely. Hell would _love_ you.” He isn’t going to let Ivan go, though.

“I know,” comes the smiling response, and Alfred wonders suddenly if he’s too late, if Ivan has already made a bargain. But he can see no strings attached to his soul. No matter what kind of deal he might have made, he is still savable.

~

It takes the angel a few moments to realize that he’s been completely stripped, but when he does, they are both transported to the bedroom in the blink of an eye.

Ivan pushes Alfred down on his back, those beautiful wings spread out flat, and then he smiles down and murmurs, as tenderly as he can, “I want to be inside of you.”

The words have the desired effect. Alfred’s pupils are blown as wide as they possibly can, and he arches up toward Ivan, who smiles wider. He is going to _own_ this angel.

~

“You’ve found another one,” Kiku says, voice terribly passive, as usual.

“Yeah, I’m in love,” Alfred says dreamily. He’s sore and red and happy and it’s all the fault of a practitioner of black magic.

“You can’t fall in love with every assignment you give yourself,” his supervisor says disapprovingly.

That’s just Alfred’s style, though. You can’t save someone you don’t love.

~

The next night, Arthur finds Ivan as soon as he arrives in Hell.

“You didn’t come last night,” the demon says, walking beside him, looking worried. “What on Earth kept you?”

Ivan laughs. He grabs Arthur by the arm and whirls him, delighted that he’s asked. “I was sleeping with an angel,” he says at last. He bends toward Arthur’s ear and whispers, as if imparting a crucial secret, “I think he wants to save me.”

That makes Arthur smile a little. “You’re going to see him again, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” Ivan breathes, eyes shining.


End file.
